


Let Me Be Beautiful For You

by BellaBolara



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 18:47:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11652516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaBolara/pseuds/BellaBolara
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky and Otabek Altin have been best friend's for three years. Yuri has been in love with Otabek for a year now, trying and failing to keep it cool. Through a series of events the two skaters get a chance to spend way more time together. Will Yura stop being a wimp and tell Ota that he digs him? Rated M to be safe. *Go easy on me this is my first fanfiction.*





	1. Chapter 1

Today is the day.

That was the mantra Yuri Plisetsky kept repeating in his little blond head as he unlaced his skates. His knife shoes gleamed back at him, reflecting his anxious face unapologetically.

Through a series of other's misfortunes his only friend in the competitive ice skating circuit, Otabek Altin was being temporarily trained by coach Yakov until Nationals. The Kazakh's own coach Oliviero needing time off after his son, who is also a skater, tore a muscle and required surgery. Otabek told Yuri over skype about it one night, his voice tight with restrain.

"It's too late in the season for me to find a new coach." Otabek had said, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "I'm going to have to quit."

Yuri yelled an uproarious 'FUCK THAT!' before stomping out of his room. After a loud, and rather one sided conversation with his coach the Russian boy had a proud tone to his voice as he returned and let Otabek know that Yakov would take him as a pupil until his coach returned from leave. Otabek had simply thanked Yuri, knowing better than to argue with the Ice tiger, and flashed him a quick smile.

"I guess I'll start getting ready to move to St. Petersburg, good night Yura." He sounded amused as he disconnected.

That had been three days ago and if Yuri was honest with himself he still couldn't believe Yakov agreed to the outrageous request. Now here he was actually getting to see his friend, getting to train at his side for the next month or so. They never saw each other very often during the season unless they were competing and for the summer Otabek returned to Kazakhstan to be with his family. Both Yuri and Otabek made a real effort to stay in contact through text messages and video calls though. The friendship had an ease to it that both skaters enjoyed. Often spending periods of comfortable silence just lazing about their rooms while webcammimg.

What had Yuri so frazzled was that he liked Otabek, liked him a lot, and this was gonna be his first time spending extended periods of time with his reserved best friend. The gold medalist skater could handle landing a Quad with both arms up with ease, but the thought of floundering in front Otabek sent a cold chill up his spine.

After practice officially ended Yuri rode home with Lilia, Yakov had taken his car to go pick up Otabek from the airport after insisting the blond boy go home and quit pestering him. Yuri grumbled to himself for most of the ride back to the apartment he shared with Mila, the apartment that would now house a new fellow competitor.

Lilia reprimanded Yuri for mumbling and after a cutting remark about posture the teen found himself fuming. He couldn't wait to cuddle his cat, maybe that will ease the nervous tension in his guts he's had for three days now. When they arrived Lilia immediately set about making dinner for the pieced together skating family, the statuesque Russian woman moved gracefully through the kitchen. Yuri grabbed a bottle of water and stalked his way to his room. He set himself down on the bed, his cat Potya coming up immediately and bumping her head on Yuri's chest. A smile spread steadily on the blond boys face as he scratched the sweet feline's ear. Using his other hand Yuri checked his phone. One message from Otabek.

((New message from Ota:

Hey roomie.))

The two words set a red flush ablaze on Yuri's cheeks and he flopped backwards onto his pillows, his cat making a displeased growl before hopping off the bed. His veridian eyes shifted to the open door leading into the hallway, Yuri could see the door that would be Otabek's room from here. He stared at his phone for a minute before thinking up a reply.

((You almost here?

Sent.))

The reply was almost instant.

((New message from Ota:

20 minutes.))

Yuri's eyes widened at the reality of it all. He had so much respect for Otabek, the Kazakh was the only skater he knew that didn't take ballet. He found other methods to be beautiful and powerful on the ice. He also had a sense of freedom about him that Yuri failed to possess. Otabek loved to spend hours working on his bike, the time he spent back in his hometown during the off season was filled with projects and hobbies. Yuri knew he made music and occasionally got sent the songs Otabek was most proud of. All these things about him Yuri admired so when he realized about a year ago that he had feelings for Otabek it came with begrudging, but not very surprising acceptance.

The really important question now was how is the blond figure skater supposed to keep his feelings in check when the object of his admiration is going to be living with him? It is now way too late to take anything back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record OtaYuri is my absolute OTP and this story is flowing out of me like water.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated!

Yuri Plisetsky was never a patient person, he tended to be more about instant gratification like most his age, but now that he was forced to wait for Otabek's immanent arrival the teen was doing everything he can to make time go faster. He stretched for a few minutes, pet Potya for a little while, in the end he scrolled through his Instagram feed for about 5 minutes before stopping on a selfie of Otabek taken before his flight. The dark haired skater was flashing the peace sign, no expression on his face, as per usual. The caption read 'Goodbye Canada, Hello Russia' and that sent an odd flutter in Yuri's chest as did just seeing Otabek's stoic yet appealing appearance. Only a few more minutes and he'd see that handsome face in person.

The blond boy tapped nervously on the screen of his phone as he heard the tell tale click of the front door of the apartment. He could hear Yakov talking to Lilia, but couldn't tell what was being said.

"YURI! Come help!" Yakov bellowed from the kitchen and while Yuri would normally have some displeased grumble as a reply the teen pretty much bolted from his room. He stepped into the living room while lifting the hood to his jacket.

"Otabek is outside, go show him where to put his things."

Yuri nodded dumbly, not feeling very Tiger like right now, in fact he felt more like a harmless kitten as he trudged down the stairs to the garage. He stopped at the door and took a deep breath, then shook his head at how ridiculous he was being. It's just Otabek. That didn't seem to help any.

Otabek Altin was bent at the waist, his head and shoulders inside of his new coach's trunk as he wrestled to get his luggage free. Yuri stared at Otabek's back appreciating the tight frame of muscle that strained at the dark gray shirt he was wearing. The familiar undercut giving Yuri that fluttery feeling all over. He realized he was staring and not even announcing his presence.

"Hey." Yuri all but growled.

Otabek turned around victorious with his luggage in his hands as he turned to greet his friend. An easy smile graced his features and it was almost too much for Yuri who immediately blushed and looked at his sock clad feet.

"Yura!" Otabek's smooth tenor echoed through the cluttered garage before the Kazakh charged at the shorter Russian without any warning and enveloped Yuri in a crushing hug. Once Yuri stopped short cicuiting, and the finer process of thought returned to him again he managed to wrap an awkward arm around Otabek's shoulders as the older skater began to pull away.

"Good to see you, Ota." The fondness leaked in Yuri's voice at being able to use the nickname.

"You're taller. Your hair has gotten so long too." Otabek remarked evenly, grabbing a strand of gold and teasingly pulling. Yuri leaned into the gentle pull, the flush on his cheeks darkening and spreading down his neck passed the edge of his t-shirt.

"Quit acting like you don't FaceTime me on a regular basis, asshole!" Yuri griped but his tone lacked the bite to be taken seriously.

Otabek just chuckled and shook his head while handing his new rinkmate a suitcase. Both boys left the garage with stupid grins plastered on their oblivious faces. They climbed the stairs in silence and passed Yakov and Lilia, who were sitting awfully close to each other as they ate in the kitchen. Yuri showed Otabek his room, it was sparse and had a bed, desk, and one black nightstand. The young Russian stood at the doorway not really knowing what to do as he watched Otabek circle what would be his bedroom. The expression on the Kazakh's face was hard to read, but he didn't look disappointed. He then turned to Yuri and flashed him a quick grin.

"You just as in awe by all this as I am?"

Otabek asked seriously, his voice rumbling in the empty space. Those dark eyes of his bore down into Yuri expectantly. It was a look the blond was very used to seeing, but was never used to the feeling it evoked. Otabek was always intense and straight forward, almost too straight forward sometimes. There were moments where Yuri could swear that the dark haired skater could see right through him, that he was able to sense the bubbling tension coursing inside.

Yuri swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, and he had to try a few times to get his traitorous voice in line.

"Yeah, I kinda saved your ass I guess."

The Ice Tiger of Russia flushed prettily for the Hero of Kazakhstan. Yuri struggled to avoid dropping his jeweled eyes from Otabek's, but gave a growl and looked desperately at the empty closet. He wanted the hardwood floor to open up and swallow him whole.

Otabek gave a derisive snort as he hefted a suitcase onto the bed. Teasing Yura was getting to be too easy, and that honestly made it more fun to the older skater who enjoyed seeing the beautiful pink blush that often adorned the blond's striking face. He decided to push Yuri's buttons just a little bit more.

"My ass owes you one." Came the deadpan response.

On cue Yuri looked at Otabek with wide eyes before hiding behind his blond mane coyly. He could see the reddening of his neck though and that made it worthwhile.

Yuri sputtered angrily, reminding Otabek of a pissed cat and bringing an amused smirk to his lips, that seemed to make the younger boy even more flustered.

"C-Come on, you big goon! Let's go eat."

Yuri's voice was clipped as he pulled the hood of his jacket firmly over the crown of his head and trudged out of the doorway.


	3. Chapter 3

It was late, definitely well after midnight, but that didn't deter the two young skaters sitting together at the dinner table from their avid conversation. Their actual dinner was long since eaten and Yakov had bid them goodnight hours ago. The conversation shifted through at least a dozen topics spurred on by the strangely charged proximity, neither Yuri or Otabek were used to having the other within arms reach and it set an insatiable feeling of companionship that they weren't ready to give up yet.

"...that last song you sent me was really cool, but Welcome to the Madness is still better."

Yuri smiled at the memories from his first senior exhibition skate and could see the nostalgia in Otabek's eyes.

"Fair enough. I'll find something you like even more one day." The Kazakh stared back at the Russian. Both of them had barely broken eye contact throughout the lengthy conversation, except for Yuri's occasional flustered eye rolls and breaks to stare at the floor with red face disdain. Otabek couldn't tell what he enjoyed more, embarassed Yuri or cocky Yuri. He had seen the two sides plenty of times tonight and the pure ease that came with this familiarity left him delightfully content.

"It's a good thing Yakov gave us the day off from practice tomorrow so you can settle in." Yuri's words were a gentle reminder of how late it was and how little Otabek had done since arriving.

"Think we should call it a night?" Came the almost contrite response from the older boy, "Not like you won't have more chances to brag about your consecutive wins tomorrow." Otabek teased.

"Whatever! Fine, let's go to bed!" Yuri spat, standing from the table abruptly before realizing the unintentional innuendo.

He blushed brightly as Otabek chuckled, standing up as well, easily towering over Yuri and staring down at the blond with that fondly amused expression he'd been wearing since he first saw him today. Otabek raised a hand to Yuri's cheek and watched the Russian's breath hitch, those beautiful soldier green eyes turning up to catch his hesitantly. Yuri's skin was warm beneath Otabek's palm, he could feel the soft yield of it.

"Yura, thank you for everything you've done." Otabek's voice was like gravel and it sent shivers down Yuri's spine.

"You're welcome, Ota." Yuri squeaked.

The fire in his face was burning away any wayward thoughts until all that remained was Otabek Altin. He was so close. He smelled so good, like a kind of cologne that was impossible to name but suited the dark haired skater very well. Yuri's own hand came up to rest against Otabek's and time stood still. They were in a bubble of their own creation, a bubble of unspoken words, unspoken truths between them.

Who knows how long they stood there with only inches seperating their bodies and their hands entwined on the blond's cheek.

It eventually became too much for Yuri, the younger boy releasing the breath he'd been holding and taking a step back. Otabek dropped his hand, but kept that small smile as they both walked to the sink to rinse their dishes and then through the living room to the hallway where the bedrooms were. They stopped in front of Yuri's door and Otabek noticed a leopard print sign hanging from a nail that had bold Russian letters painted on it in red. He would ask about it later.

"So, i'll see you tomorrow morning? We can officially get you moved in. Maybe we'll have enough time to show you around St. Petersburg a bit. I'm not a big tourism advocate like Victor, but-" Yuri was rambling, his fingers twisted around themselves in a nervous dance.

Otabek interrupted him by placing both hands on the blond's shoulders, the sudden contact silencing any more pointless babble.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Roomie." Was all the Kazakh said as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Yuri's forehead in a sweet yet speedy kiss.

Then giving the younger skater no chance to respond, Otabek bid a hasty retreat into his bedroom, waved his arm with literally no expression on his face and shut the door. Yuri stood there in the dimly lit hallway unmoving, blood filling his cheeks (and other places), and only hearing the sound of his fast paced breathing mixed with the light shuffling noise of his new roommate settling down. He raised trembling fingers to his forehead and touched the spot where Otabek's lips had been moments before. His other hand groped the door behind him in an effort to find the damn handle. Finally finding purchase Yuri let himself inside his dark bedroom, almost tripping over his cat in his Ota induced stupor. He flopped unceremoniously onto the mattress, fingers still pressing into his freshly kissed forehead.

"Fuck, I'm so screwed." Yuri cursed, oddly enough thinking about Victor and the damn pig. Their public displays of affection always unsettled him, but now a new understanding formed because Yuri Plisetsky could only imagine how amazing it must feel to have the person you loved smother you in kisses, no matter who was around to see.

Did he love Otabek?

Every Russian expletive came tumbling out of the thin blond's mouth, some English curse words mixing in as well. He was indeed screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let it be known that I love fluff. So here's a fluffy chapter to move the plot along a bit. 
> 
> Leave me your feedback on how I'm doing on my first fanfiction!


	4. Chapter 4

A rough hand was closed around Yuri's throat, his head thrown carelessly on the pillow fanning his hair in a golden halo. He felt feather light kisses being peppered on his chest and arched into the careful touches that contradicted the still unmoving hand pinning his neck. Small mewling sounds escaped Yuri without any volition, the young Russian opened his eyes to see the dark tresses of Otabek hovering below his chin. The older Kazakh used the leverage his hand provided to press Yuri's thin frame into his sheets. Otabek looked up at Yuri, a pulse pounding excitement coursing through him as those dark eyes promised something fulfilling and enticingly dirty.

"You feeling good, my little kitten?" Otabek purred at him, throaty and almost pained sounding.

"Yes, Sir." Yuri moaned.

\----

Yuri jolted awake, the husky moan echoing in his mind even as he noted the unfiltered sunshine streaming in through the windows. It was morning. More importantly, he was just dreaming about Otabek, dreaming about Otabek calling him his little kitten. The flush that painted his cheeks was hot and spread down his throat with a wild abandon. His green eyes gave a quick flash to the tent in the sheets, Yuri's erection stood tall and proud like a shameful beacon.

He growled at his traitorous mind and for the stifling frustration that pounded in his veins. Potya meowed at Yuri, the feline noticing he was awake and wanting attention. Yuri scooped the cat into his arms, he buried his face in her fur in an effort to dispel the remnants of the dream.

It was then that Yuri heard voices and movement coming from the kitchen. He guessed that Mila had finally made her way back home after romping around with that Canadian hockey player she was dating. With a groan Yuri hefted himself off the bed and padded down the hallway into the small kitchen where Otabek and Mila were standing shoulder to shoulder over the stove. The prick of jealousy was there before Yuri could control it.

"Good morning, Yura." Otabek smiled at him and Yuri's stomach tightened, his mind going back to the dream.

"Morning." He huffed, already red faced.

"Aw Yuri, you're blushing." Mila said as she sauntered over and pinched a flushed cheek.

"Hands off, you hag!" Yuri spat, bounding away from the ginger haired female and opening the fridge in a lame attempt to hide his face.

"You're such a feral little kitten." Came Mila's reply and it made the hairs on Yuri's arm bristle. There was no way she could have known about the dream, but that didn't stop the unease from settling in between his shoulders.

Otabek was suddenly standing behind him, Yuri froze as one of the Kazakh's hands reached over his head to grab eggs. Yuri could feel Otabek's breath tickling his neck and while it didn't last long enough for him to combust, the young Russian found this morning to be too much of an overload and he hadn't even been awake for half an hour yet. Yuri heard Otabek chuckle as he walked back to the stove, an almost triumphant look on his smug face.

Yuri gulped, on edge and feeling like things were only going to get worse from here. He closed the fridge and stomped to the kitchen table, a cup of plain yogurt in his hands.

"How do you like your eggs, Yura?" Otabek's rich voice grabbed his attention immediately and Yuri had to dispel the thought that he was being obedient.

"S-Scrambled, please." Yuri cursed himself for stuttering.

In the corner of the kitchen Mila's eyes widened, her pink painted lips parting with a knowing smile. Yuri and Otabek didn't notice her private realization, she feigned a slight panic at being late for practice and rushed out the front door without bothering to look at either of the boys.

Neither Yuri nor Otabek noticed Mila's odd behavior, neither even watching as she left. Yuri was trying to envision himself choking on his yogurt and dying while Otabek was occupied plating breakfast. The older skater walked two plates over to the table before taking a seat next to an incredibly flustered GPF Gold medalist. Yuri's face was flushed and his eyes were looking anywhere but at his best friend, Otabek frowned.

"You okay?" Otabek seemed worried, the concern plainly seen in his dark eyes made Yuri's chest ache.

"I'm fine!"

The hasty response wasn't very convincing and Otabek wasted no time in grabbing Yuri's hand in a misguided attempt at reassurance.The blond jumped at the sudden intimacy, but Otabek, ever oblivious, just threaded his fingers with Yuri's much smaller ones.

"You don't have to tell me. You don't have to think about it if you would rather not. We can talk about something else." The deep, almost whispered words were swimming in sincerity.

Yuri locked eyes with the dark haired skater, a resounding emotion gleaming in the depths of his jeweled orbs. Otabek was being patient with him, Otabek knew that after kissing him last night there was going to be a residual awkwardness. Yuri was never good with expressing himself through affection or touching, the only person who he could openly be affectionate with was his Grandfather. Of course Otabek knew this, Otabek knew everything about him. That thought sank heavy in Yuri's heart.

"Okay, let's talk about something else. Thank you for making me breakfast." Yuri smiled down at the plate in front of him and picked up a fork.

Otabek shrugged his shoulders, looking slightly sheepish. "I like cooking." He shrugged again.

Yuri nodded at him as he shoveled eggs into his mouth. Otabek smirked at him and picked up his own fork. The pair sat in companionable silence, appreciating the first of many breakfasts to be eaten together in their apartment. Yuri finished first and waited patiently for Otabek to finish so he could collect his plate to deposit in the sink. When Yuri turned to face his Roommate he noticed a strange apprehensive expression etched on the dark haired skater's handsome face. Otabek's eyes pinned him to the spot, he stood and Yuri saw the faintest blush just barely dusting the Kazakh's ears.

"Yura, can I show you a song? I found it last night before falling asleep and- well, it makes me think of you." Otabek stuffed his hands in his pockets, the small tinge of color on his ears blooming to life on his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What song do you think Ota is going to show Yura? Also, I love pissy Plisetsky. He's so damn cute.
> 
> Gimme your song ideas or just your favorite tune that reminds you of OtaYuri !


	5. Chapter 5

Otabek opened the door to his new bedroom, stepping aside to let Yuri in. The petite blond walked to the edge of his bed and pushed the bulky suitcase that impeded him from sitting in a furiously delicate way that made the Kazakh smile. With Yuri seated, Otabek dug inside the luggage in his closet until he found his wireless speaker. 

"Sooo, this song made you think of me? Is it in Russian?" Yuri asked shyly, laying back on his arms.

"The lyrics are in English, pretty sure the band is American." Otabek still looked slightly sheepish as he connected his phone to the speaker and it made Yuri's heart race.

The small electronic device beeped and Otabek couldn't help but to give Yuri a tentative smile when the first pumping notes of the song began. The music was energetic, reminding Yuri of Welcome to the Madness, but this was entirely different. A broad grin broke across the Russian's face and Otabek's own smile answered back proudly. 

Yuri closed his eyes, the music washing over him like hot water, making him feel warmer and giving him a sense of freedom. He imagined himself on the ice just as a cocky guitar riff started and his green eyes opened wide. If this made Otabek think about him then he was more than flattered. The dark haired skater hadn't stopped staring at him since the song began and the intense searching look in his eyes burned Yuri to the core.

The last notes of the music faded off as Otabek came to the edge of the bed, turned his phone screen to Yuri, and showed him the cover art. It was a tiger's head on a man's body that carried some sort of bat, the body dressed in a leather punk jacket. 

"Это было удивительно!" The Russian words tumbled out of Yuri's mouth on the ends of a thrilled laugh.

Yuri became a blur of blond as he launched up to hug Otabek, his gently toned arms circling the older boy's neck. Otabek stumbled a bit before balancing himself using Yuri's hips as anchors. They held each other for an immeasurable amount of time, neither one wanting to let go of the comfortable heat of the other. Otabek heaved a resolute sigh when they separated, but still smiled fondly at Yuri.

"I take it you liked it then?" Otabek asked teasingly, already knowing the answer.

Yuri clenched a fist, a fire burning in the green depths of his eyes. "I'm going to skate to this!" He declared. 

\-----

Hours had passed and both skaters stood by the archway of the door admiring their handiwork. Otabek was officially moved in, all his clothes put away, costumes hung up in the closet, and a Kazakhstan flag now nailed over the headboard of the bed. They worked at an easy pace, often stopping to tell a story or show the other a song. Otabek thanked Yuri again for convincing Yakov to house and train him. The blond just turned rosy and stared at his own feet.

"You can stop thanking me. I mostly did it because I want to beat you in the GPF fair and square." Yuri growled at him.

"You're going to have to beat me at the Rostlelecom Cup first and I won't make it easy for you." Otabek challenged in return.

A dynamic static charged the room as the two athletes stared each other down with faux anger exaggerating the knit of their eyebrows and scowls of their lips. Both of them laughed in unison, Yuri falling on his back on the bed while Otabek stood clutching his stomach. Yuri wiped his eyes and sat up, he gave Otabek a lopsided grin that the Kazakh returned fully. 

"Let's get some lunch, Roomie. I can show you around too." Yuri beamed at Otabek.

"Sounds good." The Kazakh chimed back as he started to rifle through his freshly folded clothes.

Yuri excused himself to go change, trying to avoid seeing anything of Otabek's he wasn't ready to see. The blond still managed to catch a quick view of the older boy's muscular back on the way out and nearly froze. God, Otabek had such wonderfully tanned skin. 

In the safety of his own bedroom Yuri bit at his bottom lip. He was going out on the town with his best friend, something they had done plenty of times before, but this felt strangely different. The Ice Tiger shook his head and refused to be intimidated. Yuri searched in his closet for clothing that he could deem acceptable like a man possessed. He chose a black pair of skinny jeans, a thick red sweater with leopard spots adorning the ends of the sleeves, and his beloved black boots. The mirrored doors of the closet reflected back Yuri's flushed face and he ignored it as he laced up his boots. 

Yuri stood, making the walk to the bathroom so his blond mane could be tamed. Otabek was already inside, the door wide open as the older skater passed a wide toothed comb through his dark tresses. Upon seeing his younger friend he slid over to allow Yuri room in front of the sink, but not before looking at the Russian up and down with approval. Otabek gave Yuri a deadpan thumbs up that erupted a fresh bloom of color on the blond's cheeks. He sputtered for a second, recovering quickly to pick up his long golden hair and twisting the mass into a messy bun. 

Otabek watched him, admiring the practiced grace that Yuri exuded. Both skaters brushed their teeth in silence. With teeth clean and hair managed they grabbed keys, sunglasses, and wallets. A thought struck Yuri.

"What happened to your bike?"

"Getting delivered in a few days." Otabek smiled, "Can't wait to get her back." The obvious fondness in his tone was adorable to Yuri.

A Cheshire grin broke on the Tiger's face. "What's her name?" He purred.

Otabek genuinely blushed, a rare sight that felt like a blessing every time Yuri saw it. 

"Әдемі монстр." The deep rumble of his voice was tinged with shyness. 

Yuri snorted with laughter at the name because only Otabek would call his motorcycle 'Pretty Monster'. Still red faced, the Kazakh turned away and pulled his scarf up the bridge of his nose. 

"You're the best, Ota." Yuri's voice shook with remnants of his mirth as he almost skipped to the older skater's side.

The younger boy didn't even jump when Otabek's fingers splayed across his lower back as they ventured out the front door and into the frosted late November afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was adorable, but pretty hard to write through. I'm honestly too excited to start chapter 6 and get to their cute little lunch date. Can't wait to write Yuri all beautiful and bitch faced in public.
> 
>  
> 
> The song Otabek shows Yuri is Broken Bones by CRX. It's very fitting to this pairing in my opinion and I highly recommend listening to it to get into those OtaYuri feels.
> 
> For those that want to know, Yuri says "That was amazing!" In Russian. I don't speak the language so forgive my Google translate if you do.
> 
>  
> 
> Feedback is very appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit holy shit holy shit! This was a tough chapter but I trudged through like the little OtaYuri engine that could. 
> 
> I finished writing and immediately went to post it so excuse any grammatical or spelling errors due to my boundless excitement.
> 
> Enjoy the fluff!

Saint Petersburg was purely gorgeous this time of year, a winter blanket of freeze on mostly everything and the heavy grey clouds releasing a steady barrage of snowfall. Surrounded by all the white, two darkly dressed figures strolled languidly down a desolate road. They stood close, shoulders brushing occasionally, the silence between them comfortable.

Yuri was in heaven, getting to simply bask in Otabek's company gave him a warm glow and the teen bumped the Kazakh's shoulder with his own. Otabek glanced over at him and Yuri gave him an almost coquettish grin. The dark haired skater smirked at Yuri in return.

The blond went a little rosy before clearing his throat, "So, the rink is about a half hour walk in the opposite direction. We're heading to my favorite coffee shop right now, it's about ten minutes away."

"It's not a cat café, is it?" Otabek teased.

Yuri seemed lit up by the mention, "I wish! Kastudon took me to one in Japan and I wanted to live there." He mused.

Otabek chuckled at Yuri's enthusiasm, he thought his best friend's obsession with cats was adorable and even indulged the young Russian by sending him funny cat videos regularly.

"Sometimes," Yuri started, sounding serious and wistful. "I really want to be a cat. That way I can be in any mood I want and not have to apologize."

It was a silly confession, they both knew that, but Otabek still nodded as though it was some sort of secret. 

"If you were my cat I'd let you be as moody as you want," 

The words were innocent enough, only to Yuri they sent a tidal wave of heat coursing through his body. His cheeks tinged red as he remembered the dirty dream where Otabek call him a good little kitten, his good little kitten. Yuri gulped. Luckily for the Ice Tiger turned Ice Kitty they had arrived at the small cosy coffee shop. 

Otabek placed a cool hand on the small of Yuri's back as they opened the double doors and made a short trek to the open table that was in a corner facing the large window up front. Both skaters removed their dark coats and Yuri had to shake out a dusting of snow clinging to his blond locks. Otabek did the same before sitting down on the padded chair. The shop was mostly empty and was decorated in tasteful garland with what looked to be cocoa flowers randomly placed over light fixtures. 

"Victor showed me this place. Their Knish is great, plus the staff here are huge fans of skating." Yuri said matter of factly.

"Hmm," Otabek nodded.

Yuri looked down at the hardwood floor shyly, "Would you like me to order something for you?" 

"Sure, Yura. You know what I like." The Kazakh smiled at him easily.

Yuri snapped his mouth shut with force, the way Otabek had said it seemed so familiar in a way that decidedly wasn't platonic. It left the teenager reeling.

Wait- Was he on a date with Otabek?

His face felt like it was on fire as he ambled over to the cashier, the curly haired man recognising Yuri right away.

"Hey Yuri!" The man beamed.

"Hello, Sven." Yuri smiled politely.

"What can I get for you?"

"Two small coffees, two Knish, and a big bowl of some Rassolnik. Please." The blond fiddled with his fingers, a blush still painted across the bridge of his nose.

The cashier, Sven, was at a loss for words. He had never seen the Ice Tiger of Russia act quite so tame. Chancing a look at Yuri's table he saw what had the skater behaving oddly. Otabek wasn't facing them, instead pillowing his head on his hand and gazing out of the window. 

Sven grinned, understanding. "I'll bring that right out to you."

Back at the table Yuri sat down, his thin fingers on the table wrapping nervously around a cloth napkin. Otabek turned to look at him, seeing the flustered expression and finding it charming. The Kazakh grabbed one of the pale hands and stilled Yuri from basically shredding the cloth held captive in his fidgeting claws.

"I like this place," Otabek hummed.

Yuri glanced down at their entwined hands with wide eyes.

"I'm glad!" He squeaked.

Otabek made an amused sound in the back of his throat as he tightened his fingers around Yuri's. The difference in size and color entertained the older skater. He turned the teen's hand palm upwards, trailing his index from the point of Yuri's middle finger to the dip in his wrist. A shudder rolled through the both of them at the obviously intimate contact. Their eyes locked, intense chestnut brown with jeweled green and a livewire of kinetic energy shot between them.

The food arrived shortly after, causing both skaters to split apart and politely acknowledge their server, who looked at both of them with admiring eyes. They thanked him for the meal and avoided making more eye contact.

 

\---LMBBFY---

 

Some time later the snow had stopped falling, a momentary reprieve from the unstoppable Russian winter settling itself in. Yuri sat with a coffee mug wrapped in his hands and watched the serenity outside none the wiser to the dark eyes currently tracing every bit of his flushed profile. 

Otabek was currently transfixed on the latest blush making residence on Yuri's beautiful face. He knew that him staring would make Yura blush more and that suited him just fine. His best friend had looks that could kill, Otabek certainly not immune to those features. Yuri placed his mug down next to their equally empty plates, eyes shooting to Otabek and capturing him in those bright green depths. 

"We should get going now that the snow has stopped. " Yuri bit his lip in thought.

"Yes sir, Mister tour guide." Otabek teased, trying not to stare at the blond boy's mouth.

Yuri chuckled lightly and stood from the chair, reaching into his pocket for his wallet just as Otabek placed money on the table. Knowing that there was no way he would convince the Kazakh otherwise Yuri bit down his usual argumentative response. Otabek stood as well and the skaters donned their coats.

The Ice Tiger waved quickly to Sven the cashier and he ignored the flare of heat coiling in his body as Otabek once again placed his hand against the small of his back. The gesture becoming more familiar, but still wonderfully pleasant. They set off in return to the apartment, bellies full and an air of companiable contentedness buzzing between them. 

Yuri kept his eyes on the road ahead, not trusting himself enough to openly gawk at Otabek no matter how much he wanted to. The Kazakh on the other hand had no reservations in observing the Russian, watching the tight set of Yuri's shoulders as they scuffed through the snow.

"Yura," Otabek stopped walking suddenly.

"Yeah?" Yuri questioned warily.

Otabek stuck his hand out to him, Yuri gave him a confused look and stayed rooted to the spot. With a roll of his dark eyes the older skater took a step forward, grasping Yuri's chilled hand, paying no mind to the stutters coming from the teen. Otabek continued to hoof it, basically dragging Yuri along behind him while a couple walking their dog passed them by smiling. 

The crunch of their boots drowned out Yuri's sped up breathing, his reddened face kept the cold away as it spread to his neck and crept to his chest.

"Ota- What- I mean,- You don't-"

"You're tense because of me." Otabek's deep voice rumbled through Yuri making his flesh break out in goosebumps that had nothing to do with the weather.

"I'm not tense!" The blond spat defensively. His shackles rising like a cornered cat.

"Uh huh."

The apartment was within view now and Otabek sped up, Yuri still grumbling behind him. The pair entered through the garage, both eyeing Yakov's car parked there.

Otabek released the ivory hand in his grasp, turning to tower over Yuri, a withering stare pinning the Tiger.

"You don't need to be so nervous with me, Yura." 

"I don't know what you're talking about, asshole!" Yuri snapped.

A rough push pressed the blond to the nearest wall. Yuri gasped and gave a pissed glare to his now very close best friend. Otabek placed both hands on each side of Yuri's shoulders, daring the Russian to move. 

"Now you're going to act stupid?" Otabek's growl echoed in the small space.

Yuri kept still, not used to seeing the Kazakh angry and trying not to let the excited thrill consume him. Otabek was breathing harshly, keeping his dark eyes locked on Yuri's bright orbs. A light shade of pink clung to Otabek's ears and the tip of his nose.

"Tch, You're such a bratty little kitten." Otabek voice was husky, making Yuri's heart pound frantically.

"I thought you said if I was your kitten I could be in any mood I wanted?" Yuri turned up his chin defiantly.

Otabek smirked down at him, "But you're not mine."

The tanned, rough hands of the older boy skimmed lightly across Yuri's shoulders. Otabek moved the thick coat out of the way and delicately ran the tips of his fingers up the pale column of Yuri's neck. The teen instinctively tilted his head to the side, allowing Otabek's fingers free reign. Yuri's whole body felt flushed, he was panting with heady excitement. Inticed by the gentle touches Otabek was giving him.

"What if I wanted to be yours?" Yuri purred hesitantly.

With a deep groan, Otabek wrapped his fingers around Yuri's throat and used the leverage to press a hungry kiss to those beautiful parted pink lips. Yuri melted against him, a small mewl escaping as Otabek traced his tongue smoothly along Yuri's bottom lip. The Kazakh's free hand tangled in the gold strands of Yuri's hair, tugging him closer as Otabek claimed his mouth with an unquestionable dominance.

Yuri couldn't think, could barely breath. Everything he wanted for this passed year was suddenly happening and it left him feeling lightheaded in the best ways. Otabek's mouth was demanding, almost violent, as though he had been holding himself back. Yuri whined desperately when the kiss ended, Otabek stepping away with a dark lust clouding his eyes. 

"Wow," Both breathless voices echoed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I didn't mean to write Otabek as such a dom right way. It just slipped out and I liked it. Not 100% satisfied with the chapter but still proud, might rewrite later though. 
> 
> Tell me what you thought of their first kiss and future OtaDaddy!
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated and keeps me motivated!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't love this chapter too much, had a bit of a block. I think I might need a muse. Someone help. Let me leech of your creative juices!
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated. This is tough work that is fueled by blood, sweat, lots of tears, and many sleepless nights.

Heavy breathing was all that could be heard in the suddenly sweltering garage, a light rustling of fabric came afterwards as Otabek removed his coat. Yuri watched each of his movements with hazy lust filled eyes. His thin fingers pressing on the bruised flesh of his lips, he could still taste Otabek.

A pointed look was thrown his way by said Kazakh and Yuri took the hint, roughly taking the coat off his shoulders. 

"You.. Um- You're a really good kisser." The whisper felt heavy as it spilled from Yuri's mouth. He sounded much younger and much more foolish than he thought he was.

Otabek chuckled low and throaty.

"You're pretty good too, Yura. So sensitive."

The praise had Yuri flushed to the roots of his trademark golden hair. Under normal circumstances he would have a scathing response, but Otabek had quite literally kissed him silly. Instead he stared openly at the older boy, appraising him. Now was the perfect chance to do so.

Otabek was handsome, like in the 'tall, dark, and handsome' sort of way that girls always gushed about. The strong line of his jaw was sharp and defined, along with every bit of muscle on him. Which was quite a bit. Otabek also had incredible eyes, they were such a warm chocolate color that could draw Yuri in from across a crowded room. An amused "ahem" drew Yuri's attention to the fact that he was staring, hard. The thoroughly eye fucked Kazakh just smiled.

"Like what you see, kitten?" 

Yuri suppressed a wanton groan at the teasing tone and pet name. 

"Yes, Sir." He purred.

A smooth lift of an eyebrow was the only response the blond kitten received as a truly sexy smirk settled on Otabek's full lips. He stepped forward and Yuri stepped back, ass bumping into the parked car with a small squeak. 

Otabek grasped under Yuri's chin, thumb passing over his bottom lip and forcing his mouth open. Yuri kept his jeweled eyes locked on the older boy, emboldened by the lust reflecting in Otabek's dark clouded eyes, and gave the thumb pressed to lips a slow lick.

Yuri felt more than heard the rumbling sigh that escaped the Kazakh. Not breaking eye contact the Russian skater took Otabek's thick digit into his supple mouth and gave it a teasing suck, letting it out with an exaggerated pop before proudly smirking at his now unmoving friend. 

"You've done this before?" Came the incredulous sounding question. 

"Not really. You make me feel...attractive." Yuri turned his eyes away, suddenly worried that they would give away too much.

"Yura," Otabek said softly. "You're beautiful."

The hand grabbing Yuri's chin eased its hold, but still forced their eyes to meet once again. Wearing a fresh blush and a sheepish expression from the wholehearted compliment Yuri leaned up on his toes to meet Otabek's waiting lips. Their breath mingling sweetly in the mere centimeters of air between them.

With the sudden click of the door handle both boys split apart like they had been burnt, ending up on far corners of the small room and looking incredibly red handed at a smug faced Mila.

"Oh, am I interrupting something?" She sing songed.

"No you Hag! We just came back from having lunch, what's it to you?!" Yuri spat, glaring daggers into the grinning woman.

"Suuuure. Otabek, how was lunch?" Mila chirped innocently.

"Fine. Yura showed me his favorite coffee shop." The dark haired skater sounded his usual self, but there was a coloring in his cheeks that had given him away before he had even spoken.

"You guys are cute." 

The offhanded statement caught the two boys by surprise. They were cute? What does that even mean?

"Anyway, Yakov is gonna drop me off at Jacob's house so I'll see you at practice tomorrow. Try not to get lost in each other's eyes." She batted her eyelashes dramatically and made a hasty retreat into the passenger side of the car just as their Coach entered the garage.

They bid a stiff hello/goodbye to Yakov and Yuri booked it up the stairs, Otabek behind him keeping a much more leisurely pace. Opening the door to the empty apartment Yuri found his body humming with electricity. All that was on his mind as he turned the T.V. on and plopped boneless onto the couch was getting to kiss the Kazakh again.

Otabek stood by the front door watching the blond slink around with amused curiosity, Yuri patted the unoccupied side of the couch beckoning his friend to join him.

"I'm sorry about Mila, I can talk to her about laying off." Yuri began as the dark haired skater took a seat. "She's a pain in the ass."

A single bark of laughter responded, sounding entertained with the idea. Otabek's tanned arm tangled around Yuri, bringing him closer and the Russian could smell the distinct cologne that clung to the older boy's skin. With a small flutter of gold hair Yuri's head lolled onto Otabek's shoulders. 

"It's doesn't bother me."

 

\---LMBBFY---

 

After about an hour of mind numbing television Yuri found himself anxious. Otabek hadn't mentioned anything about their rough garage make out and Yuri was too chicken to even begin to bring it up. The blond fidgetted in the older skater's arms for the umpteenth time, his uneased mind reflecting in his tense movements.

Otabek eyed him questioningly, turning slightly on the couch to face Yuri and not needing a single word to express his open concern. It was shining earnestly in the depths of his eyes.

"I- I don't know how to feel about... this." Yuri's voice was timid, unsure. He hated it.

"Do I have to apologize for kissing you?"

The question struck Yuri as odd and he made a repugnant face in protest. Otabek chuckled, his chest rumbling deeply and having a lulling sensation on the young Russian's frayed nerves.

"I liked kissing you, a lot." Yuri softy declared.

Otabek tightened his arms around Yuri, exhaling a muted sigh that the younger skater felt rushing against the exposed skin of his neck.

"Hm, me too. I really liked when you called me Sir." 

Yuri bit his lip, cheeks going wonderfully rosy with embarrassment. He really liked calling Otabek Sir too.


End file.
